May I ?
by Redelta
Summary: When Harriet is attacked by a racist hillbilly, two men apparently from nowhere come to her rescue. Wounded and tired, One of them gets her to a group of outlaws, showing her a whole new world and giving her a new chance in life. But living under the laws of Dutch Van Der Linde can be fatal to some, and painful to others. ArthurxOC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 :

Her bow and arrows. Or her knife. Anything. She had to reach something, anything could be a weapon. Crawling towards another stable, she tried to reach for the fork as soon as she saw it but a weight fell upon her back, stopping her in her tracks. A hot, alcoholic breath grazed on her neck, sending her shivers of disgust down her spine. Ignoring the pain in her thigh and the stickiness of her blood, she kept struggling.

-Where do you think you're going, savage? The bearded man asked, pulling at her hair to hold her in place.

Taking advantage of her small figure, she didn't wait a second more to shift underneath the man, raising her knee and hitting him where it would hurt. Her assailant rolled on his side, hissing in pain as she ran towards him, kicking his gun at a good distance from him and snatched his knife off of his belt before sticking it to his throat, a nasty glare settled on her face.

-Where do _you_ think you're going now? She asked, her tone filled with sarcasm.

She held herself from slitting his throat right away. She knew the consequences. If she did it, people in Valentine wouldn't be too long to come to her ranch, joyful to finally end the half savage that lived a bit too close to their fine town. But the moment of hesitation revealed itself to be fatal. A violent wave of pain went from her thigh and spread through her entire body. But it was too late for her to realize that the man had stuck his finger exactly where the bullet he fired earlier had found it's way. Screaming in pain, she barely noticed that the man had tipped her off before her head hit violently the ground, darkening her vision for a moment.

-You fucking half-breed bitch! It's over now!

In the dim light, she hardly noticed a flash of steel being raised in the air. That was it. They would finally have had her. Closing her eyes, she waited for the moment the cold knife would pierce her chest and end all her suffering. But instead, the sound of a gun and a splash of blood brought her back to reality. Feeling the weight of that disgusting man pushing her onto ground made her jump and she struggled to get him off of her. But it wasn't necessary. A pair of hands threw the dead, drunken man away from her as another grabbed her shoulders and held her up. Shaking her head, she didn't take this as a victory too soon. Those men, whoever they were, could have bad intentions as well.

The first one she saw had a bow strapped to his back and as he stepped closer, she could get a good look at him. His dark skin matched his deep brown eyes and his black hair seemed to fall all the way down his back. He wasn't tall, but his build was still impressive and she knew he could knock off anyone if he wanted to.

Then she lifted her head up to look at the one that still held one of her shoulders. From where she was standing, she couldn't see much but she did notice his green eyes and his fair hair, half hidden underneath a hat. He was tall and lean, and she couldn't help but see him put his gun back in its holster. Se _he_ fired the shot.

Suddenly very aware of the possible dangerousness of the two men, she took a step back, reaching down to the knife now lying on the ground before holding it up in her only defence.

-Who are you? She asked, trying to hide the shaking in her voice.

The bowman took a step towards her, a small smile on his lips. He side glanced at his companion before taking another step.

-I'm Charles. This is...

-We ain't here for this, Charles, now let's go. The other man cut off, turning on his heels, about to leave the barn before his friend caught his arm.

He whispered something to him, something she couldn't quite make out but she heard the word 'bleeding'. Shaking her head, she finally looked at the wound on her thigh. Slowly patting her raw flesh, she sighed in desperation. No exit wound. The damn bullet was still in there and the blood loss started to make her feel dizzy. Before she could realize anything the 'grumpy' guy was back in front of her, a piece of cloth between his hands. She tried to take a step back but he held her wrist, making her drop the knife to the ground. Crouching in front of her, he tightly wrapped the cloth around her thigh, just above the wound, probably a makeshift tourniquet, she thought.

-You'll be alright now, m'lady. He said in almost a groan.

Will she? She leaned on him as he wrapped an arm around her back to help her walk out of the barn. Once outside, her eyes instinctively found her dead horse, lying on the ground. At least this son of a bitch had the decency to kill him quickly. Holding back a tear as the man dragged her away from the ranch, his voice echoed in her head.

-You take her with you Charles.

-No, I'm not. Someone's got to finish our business here. So, you take her back. The named Charles said in a laugh.

She took a few more steps before finally finding the strength to talk again.

-Where are you taking me? She asked in almost a whisper.

The green-eyed man suddenly picked her up, placing her on the back of a grey horse, before hoisting himself up as well, sitting right behind her and grabbing the reins. Putting the horse in a slow trot, he let a few seconds pass before he answered.

-We're uh... We're in a gang with Charles, but we have someone who could take care of you at our camp. You'll be alright.

She wanted to thank him for his kindness, for not letting her get killed by some hillbilly trash or leaving her to bleed to death in her barn. But the word 'gang' stopped her in her tracks. _Let's not get to hopeful now,_ she thought.

-You still haven't told me who you were. She said weakly instead.

-Arthur. Arthur Morgan.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The ride had last half an hour, perhaps, but it seemed like forever. The pain in her thigh had spread in her entire body and she could tell her 'saviour' was quite worried as well; judging by the way he constantly shifted his weight on the saddle behind her and his legs slightly pressing his horse's flanks every two steps. Maybe a dead girl on his horse was the last thing he needed right now.

-And you? What's your name? he asked, probably just to check if she was still alive.

Her mind was clear, but her body refused to obey her and her vision seemed to darken a bit more each second. And that pissed her off. The only thing she could control was focusing on the pain that that wound inflicted her.

-Harriet Wiley.

She felt the horse slow down as a pair of hands helped her to get down. Yet she couldn't clearly see. The next thing she knew, was that she was thrown on a table and someone held her head still. Blinking a few times, she could make out a few forms, two women and a man were looking down at her.

-Mrs Jackson, help me take her jeans off. Be sure not to scrape her wound. A harsh but female voice ordered.

She felt someone lifting her hips for her as another pair of hands swiftly pulled at her jeans. When the chilly air of the night grazed her legs, she instinctively tried to hide her exposed skin by squeezing her thighs together. A few seconds later, the shame overtook her and almost became stronger than the pain. Almost. Her body violently shook when she felt something metallic insert her wound. Biting on her lower lip to keep herself from screaming was probably a mistake. She felt drops of blood running down her mouth and the taste of it almost made her pass out. It was too much. Too much.

-Mr Morgan! Give her something to bite in before she breaks her teeth! The harsh voice ordered again.

When something blocked her view of the night sky, Harriet thought it was her vision blurring again, but she quickly realised, it was someone's wrist, above her mouth. So it was this Arthur Morgan holding her head.

-Here. Just the shirt please. The man said.

Nodding firmly, she took the fabric between her teeth and bit. Hard. Feeling the intrusive metal again, she threw her head back, biting at this man's shirt like her life depended on it. Well, maybe it did. If she let go to the pain, it would be the end of her. She knew it would.

The next minutes passed in a blur; trying her best not to pass out, Harriet held onto the table, digging her nails in the wood as her teeth almost tore Morgan's sleeve. She only felt someone wrap something around her leg and put a blanket on her shivering body. Slowly letting go off of her grip on both the table and the shirt, she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

* * *

Soft voices woke her up, but she didn't open her eyes. She didn't know if she had the strength yet. Instead, she tried to focus on those voices.

-Why would you bring her here in the first place Mr Morgan?

She recognized the hard voice from earlier and guessed she was something like a boss around here. She heard a low sigh, probably from the man who brought her here.

-The bullet is out, but she lost a lot of blood. I'm afraid your efforts are in vain. She concluded.

She wouldn't die. Not after that. She couldn't. But her body didn't seem to leave her a choice, drifting off to sleep once more, not knowing if she'd wake up.

* * *

A soft tickle on her nose almost made her sneeze and as she thought it was the wind, she realized someone was grazing her skin with a feather. Eyes fully opened, she was greeted by a young lady wearing a sweet smile on her lips.

-Rise and shine miss! She said cheerfully.

Slowly sitting up, Harriet blinked a few times before looking around her. The sun was still low in the sky and a few clouds hid it behind their thickness. The camp she was in seemed well organised: Tents were set up and a campfire was slowly dying down as the repetitive sound of a knife echoed in the camp. Completely turning around, Harriet noticed what seemed like a butcher behind a wagon, cutting through a large piece of meat. Who were these people?

-I'm assuming you've got a lot of question. The woman guessed. To answer one of them, my name's Mary-Beth.

-Harriet. She automatically answered.

-I know, Arthur told us. Can you walk? I can show you around if you want.

By this young woman's enthusiasm, Harriet assumed they didn't have many guests around here. Carefully putting her feet to the ground, the woman grabbed her bloodied jeans and put them on as discretely as she could, well aware of a few men's presence around in the camp. But clearly, it didn't work.

-Come on darling, you don't have to put those back on! A large bearded man shouted as he walked around with a rifle in his hands.

She knew she wouldn't be surrounded by very clever and delicate people in here, but she couldn't help the anger that rose in her chest as soon as his stupid remark reached her ears. But before she could unleash it, someone shut his mouth for her.

-Shut the hell up, Bill and find something useful to do.

Turning around, Harriet quickly spotted that Arthur Morgan, walking swiftly between the tents, a deer on his shoulders before plopping it down on the butcher's counter. In the soft light of the morning, the woman could finally get a good look at him. His fair hair barely touched his shoulders and the shadow of his hat made it hard to properly see his face. But she could see that constant frown between his eyebrows and his eyes seemed to be squinted. He looked… sad. Did something happen to him? Recently? Or was it just his normal face and Harriet was imagining things?

-You look better.

His voice tore her from her reverie and she had to shake slightly her head to focus on what he was saying.

-Yes, I am. I huh… thank you. For this and… you know, shutting him up. She gestured at the idiot from earlier.

God she was bad at this. Talking. All these years alone had been bad for her social skills. Especially when the only people she came across were the ones that wanted to insult her, steal some of her things and horses and more recently, kill her.

-Yeah, no problem. He's an idiot but he shouldn't harm you.

The sound of a horse neighing caught their attention, and Harriet immediately recognize the other man from the night before. Charles, if she remembered correctly.

-Well ladies, good day. Arthur said before leaving them to meet his companion.

-Come, I'll help you walk if you need. Mary-Beth offered.

After a good walk between the different tents of the camp, the women stopped at the horses, patting them gently and giving them a few treats from time to time. Now installed in a comfortable silence, Harriet and Mary-Beth were leaning against a wagon, the only sounds reaching their ears being the soft music coming from a closed tent.

-Do you plan on staying here? The young woman asked. I'm sure Dutch won't mind. We lost a few people you know.

Would she stay? Who was Dutch? They lost a few people? What was she supposed to understand? Sighing, she thought about it for a moment. She had her cattle back home, but her horses were no more and to be truthful, she was scared to go back to her ranch.

-Who's Dutch? She decided to ask first.

Mary-Beth let out a small chuckle and shook her head.

-I forgot! He saw you last night, but from where you were, you probably couldn't see him. He's –

-The leader! A cheerful voice announced.

Turning around, Harriet saw a tall man, well dressed and jet-black hair smiling at them. Well if _he_ was the leader, these people must be living a good life she thought.

-Dutch Van Der Linde. Now, I won't lie to you, I wasn't too kin on letting you stay but Arthur said you could fight. And we could definitely use a good fighter. So what do you say?

Harriet tried to answer quickly but, she needed to think. What was holding her back to her ranch? Nothing, she could take care of her cattle in a few days. A husband? None. Not anymore at least. A family? Well it seemed like her new family was standing right in front of her.

-I'll stay.

* * *

Hi everyone! I'd like to thank the people who started to follow this story, I mean I didn't think it would be so quick and I hope you guys like it so far!

Anyway, have a good day or good night and I'll talk to you in the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

_A few days later_

Finally, able to walk comfortably, Harriet had spent the last few days making a bow and as much arrows as she could. Even if she would have liked to get hers back at her ranch, she knew she couldn't travel all alone with an injured leg. Becoming good friend with Tilly Jackson, she enjoyed more and more their conversations, whereas Arthur had disappeared on a hunting trip. Most of the other people in the camp were kind as well, and Harriet began to get comfortable around them.

"Tilly, I meant to ask you…" she started slowly "What were Charles and Arthur doing so close to my ranch?"

The young woman looked down at her feet for a few seconds before letting a chuckle escape her lips.

"Well… They were planning on stealing your cattle. To sell it." Tilly answered without any ounce of hesitation.

It was Harriet's turn to laugh. Wow. The nerve it would take to save the person you intended to steal from… Getting up, the woman took a deep breath and couldn't restrain the small smile on her face when she noticed Arthur Morgan coming into the camp, with what seemed like a mouflon on his horse's back. He wasn't going to escape the confrontation about the cattle. No sir.

"Miss Wiley, I'd like a word." A harsh voice announced.

Harriet slowly turned around to none other than Susan Grimshaw facing her. Even is the lady wasn't the sweetest person you'd ever meet, Harriet liked her. She knew how to get things done and despite the appearances, she wasn't scared to get her hands dirty.

"Mr Morgan! You too."

The green-eyed man took a few steps towards the ladies and waited for the eldest to say what she had to say.

"There's probably gonna be rain tonight so miss Wiley here can't sleep outside anymore. So, since _you_ brought her here, you find an arrangement to get her somewhere dry and sheltered."

Harriet didn't really think about it. She did spend the previous nights outside and didn't think on the long-term. But before she could venture anything to Miss Grimshaw, the lady had disappeared again, probably to reprimand Karen on her excessive drinking.

"Well, you can't take my bed for now, I'll take the bedroll." Arthur muttered while looking at his feet.

"No. I'm not taking your bed." Harriet decided. "Even… Even if it would only be justice…" She added with a smirk.

"And why is that? He asked with a deep frown on his face."

"Come on, I know you planned on stealing my cattle with your friend." She said in a heavy tone.

But she immediately regretted the way she accused him. It was true yes, but he seemed… Ashamed.

"Well, you won't have to, now." She added a bit too quickly.

He looked up at her, trying and miserably failing to hide his surprise.

"I won't need my cows anymore. We can go sell them and share the money with the group…" she offered.

She hoped she said the right thing. That's how they did things right? They get to keep a part of the loot and give the rest to the group? Seeing Arthur hesitate, she really started to doubt.

"You'd really do that?" he asked a bit harshly. "You hardly know us."

Simply nodding, she carefully watched the man standing before her simply shrug his shoulders.

"Well what are we waiting for? Come on."

It was only a matter of seconds for him to get his grey horse ready and hoist Harriet up behind him. Galloping to her ranch, she just appreciated the fact that she wasn't the one in charge. It was nice to just sit on a horse and have nothing else to do than watching the landscape go by. Suddenly dragged out of her trance by the mare's sudden stop, she had to clench Arthur shirt to stay in place.

Not saying a word, she hopped down and carefully avoided the barn to get to the corral. Methodically leading the beasts out, she gladly accepted Arthur hands to get her back on the horse.

"To Valentine." She announced. "Do you know how to lead cattle?"

Muttering something Harriet couldn't quite make out, Arthur just put his mare in a slow trot, probably waiting for instructions.

"Just pick up the pace a bit and lead them to the road. They're used to follow it." She indicated.

Whereas it would have taken a few minutes to reach Valentine if Harriet had been alone, it took them at least half an hour to finally reach the town. Leading the cows to the auction yard, Harriet knew she would receive insistent glances but she didn't expect _that_ much. Probably the fact that a half-Indian girl was riding behind a not so stand up looking man drew the shrews and drunken idiots' attention.

She tried to reduce the talking at a minimum with the buyer, like she always did. Give the cattle, take the money and leave. That was the best way to avoid troubles. And she had to apply this pattern now. Especially while having Arthur with her. But it seemed that it wouldn't be possible.

"Seventy-five dollars? There's exactly twenty-six heads here!" she almost shouted. "That's not even three dollars per each!" She exclaimed again, trying to contain herself.

The short, young man just turned on his heels. Was he going to ignore her?

"Hey! You're not getting away with this. I want my money. It's usually ten dollars for _one_ cow!"

"Listen, _savage_ ," he started with that annoyed look young people usually wear. "I don't know who you were dealing with until now, but I won't pay someone like you more than they deserve. You should consider yourself lucky that I even paid you at all!" The boy said with a smirk.

Rage started to boil up in her spine and she saw herself to jump at him and claw at his face. She'd show him what savage really meant. No. She had to take this calmly. But before she could answer anything, she was shoved to the side and the boy was yelping. It took her a few moments to realize that Morgan had almost jumped at him, gripping the sides of his shirt and lifting him up against the fence.

"Listen boy, I'm pretty sure you enjoy playing the almighty with a woman, but it won't take today. So you pay the lady and we'll be on our way. _And_ , you'll get to live." He said calmly, even if anyone could discern the threat in his tone.

Harriet wasn't sure what to do. Should she get the horse ready to clear off or...? When she saw the weak boy hand over another batch of bills to Arthur before he turned around without a word, she kept her eyes on the buyer. Panic rose in her chest when she saw him run towards the sheriff's office. Instinctively jumping on the grey mare's back, she waited for Arthur to do the same.

"Help! I need the authorities!" They heard in the distance.

"Well that's not good." Arthur muttered before hopping behind Harriet. "You drive, there might be some shootin'."

The woman shook her head as she made the horse turn around and speed up on the road. They could hear the hooves coming their way, and fortunately, they couldn't be more than four. Four. Harriet couldn't let Arthur shoot them. She didn't exactly know why, but they had to find another way. These bastards were quick when it came to a savage stealing money. That was probably what the boy accused her of anyway.

Thankful to the mare's speed, she urged her out of the town as she lowered herself on her neck to avoid the bullets that would be coming their way.

"Hang on!" She shouted when the deputies started shooting.

Pulling at the right rein, she directed the mare under the tracks, holding onto the saddle-horn as Artur wrapped an arm around her waist to steady himself. Making the horse gallop between the trees, Harriet hoped the forest would be enough to lose the lawmen. Carefully dodging the trees, she kept the mare at a steady rhythm and kept her galloping downwards, to the gorge.

Bullets whistled in her ears and she had to control her breath to keep the horse galloping the right way and focus on not getting shot. When she felt Arthur shift his weight behind her, she knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't shoot them!" She shouted again.

"Why the hell not?! They're right behind us in case you haven't noticed!" he snapped back.

Taking her chance at looking back, she finally took a good look at their assailants, indeed right behind them. They wouldn't get away. They would only lead them to the camp.

"Fine! Jump!"

Not waiting for him to answer, Harriet let herself fall from the mare and crawled behind a fallen tree. Her leg was still sore and the fall would not help, but she couldn't just stay on the ground and get slaughtered like a common sheep. When she saw Arthur join her behind the trunk, she took a deep breath and didn't waste a second to react.

"Give me one of those!" she said as she gestured at one of his revolvers.

She took the gun between her hands and shot one bullet, showing them, they were armed as well whereas Arthur took a precise shot, putting down on the deputies. Sitting up, she rested her arm on the tree and held her breath. They had to. She had to. It's them or her and Arthur. Pulling the trigger, she felt a certain satisfaction at the loud thud that echoed in the valley. The two others got down from their horses and became easy targets. Squinting her eyes, she tried to aim for the throat but the kick made her hit the shoulder instead, paralysing the man for few moments. She was good with a bow but she lacked practice with a gun, that was sure. Taking another shot, she hit the cheek this time, making the deputy fall backwards and hit the dusty ground. It took her a few seconds to realise that Arthur had already ended the other moments ago. Sighing, she leaned back against the tree and finally took a deep breath, handing the gun back to Arthur without looking at him. He took it without a word and leaned against the trunk as well.

"You okay?" he asked. "I mean with your leg and…"

"I'm fine" she answered softly.

She was. Physically, her leg was stirring a bit, but nothing she couldn't handle. And mentally? She was just tired. She hadn't expected things to turn out this way. She had been in trouble before, but not to the point where she had to shoot lawmen. But she was fine. And the fact that she felt fine disturbed her. Wasn't she supposed to feel bad, or sorry for killing two men that were simply doing their jobs? Maybe spending all this time alone had made her cold and indifferent.

"You huh… You ever killed before?" Arthur muttered beside her. "Men I mean."

"I did." She answered.

Was she tired to the point that she couldn't lie anymore? She even answered the question he didn't ask.

"My husband."

* * *

Hi everyone! I feel like these chapters are getting longer and longer, so I hope you don't mind! Also, a guest suggested that I used th "" instead of the - , so I did and I actually think it's better. But tell me what you think!

I'd like to thank everyone who followed and favorited this story since last time, and I'll see you next chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up on the bedroll under Arthur's tent, Harriet slowly sat up, to see most of the camp was still asleep. Glancing at her right, she could see Arthur was sleeping too, his back facing her. She decided it was a good time to go hunting. Her leg shouldn't be too much of a trouble if she was careful and didn't put too much weight on it.

After a silent breakfast in Sadie's company, Harriet got up and went back to Arthur's tent, strapping her bow to her back and taking her arrows in her hand, realising she had to make a quiver as soon as she could. Decided to earn her keep, she left the camp before the sunrise.

Crossing the road and the tracks, it didn't take her much time to find a track to follow. A few does were there only hours ago, and she thanked the rain that dampened the ground last night, making it easier for her to follow the animals. There wasn't only does and deers, judging by the footprints she found. Horses. A herd of horses was there as well. Following the tracks for at least an hour, she positioned herself behind bushes when she finally spotted a few does. She decided not to shoot yet, she had to rest her leg for a moment. Sitting down and slowly putting her arrows on the ground, she took a deep breath and focused on the discreet sounds the does were making. Some of them must have been fighting judging by the ruffle Harriet heard behind her while the others were peacefully eating the wet grass at their feet.

It was time. Slowly turning around, she didn't pay much attention to anything else but those animals. And maybe she should have. Feeling someone's hand on her shoulder, she tried to contain herself to not scare her game.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered when she realized who had joined her.

Arthur crouched beside her, that constant frown still on his face.

"People back in camp seem to believe that you're my responsibility, since _I_ brought you there." He whispered back. "So you can't just disappear like that."

Shaking her head, she tried to push back the annoyed look that threatened to appear on her face. She didn't need a chaperon. She never did, so why now?

"How did you even find me?" she decided to ask instead of provoking him.

"A doe is not the only thing easy to track after this rain." He said as a matter-of-factly.

Taking a deep breath again, she notched an arrow and slowly put one knee to the ground and bended her bow. Locking her eyes on the doe's neck, she held her breath and felt all her muscle tense when the feathers grazed her ear. Still holding her arrow, she waited for the right moment, the perfect one. About to shoot, she felt Arthur put his hand on her bow arm, forcing her to lower it. _For heaven's sake!_ First, he tracks her down here and then make her miss a perfect shot?

"What the hell?" she asked, forcing herself to whisper.

He didn't even bother to answer and just pointed at something beside her. Turning her head, she saw a young fawn, clumsily walking towards its mother, the doe she was about to kill. Letting a deep sigh escape her lips, she threw her arrow with the others on the ground, making the herd jump their way away from the hunters.

"I could definitely use a horse." She said, not wanting to think about the fact that she was about to slaughter a doe, leaving a fawn motherless and that it took an outlaw to stop her.

"We'll get you one, but after that, I have other matters to attend to." Arthur said as he got up.

Whistling softly, Arthur grabbed the reins of his mare when she appeared in front of them. Harriet waited that Arthur was in place before taking his hand and settling behind him.

"Walk slowly, I saw signs of a herd about an hour ago. Maybe I can pick up the trail." She said in a too commanding tone.

Even if he didn't say anything about her attitude, she felt the need to add something.

"Please." She said softly. Yes, being alone all these years had been really bad for her social skills.

He didn't comment and Harriet finally found the tracks again. There must have been six or seven horses, pretty tall or heavy judging by how deep the prints were. Good, she didn't like small and thin horses, she never really knew why, maybe to compensate her petite figure.

They followed the tracks through the heartlands when finally, their researches paid. Seven horses, peacefully grazing were brushing off the flies with swift movements of their tails.

Slowly getting off of the grey mare, she had to take a deep breath before walking towards the herd. They were all true beauties, all proud and peaceful at the time, the soft breeze making their mane flutter around and their muscle tensed at every move.

"Do you need a lasso?" Arthur asked softly not to scare the horses.

"It should be fine." Harriet whispered back.

Taking one step at a time, she lowered herself even if she wouldn't be too impressive in front of these horses with her small height. She had to warn them of her presence, not surprise them and risk them to gallop away. Clicking her tongue, she was glad to see that every one of them heard her and turned towards her. But only one took a few steps toward her. A tall, dapple bay horse planted his feet on the ground, ears pinning against his neck and judging by this attitude, it was a stallion.

"Easy." She softly said. "Easy, I won't hurt you."

She avoided his gaze and she didn't expect the horse to take advantage of it. With her horses, it calmed them down, showed them she respected them and they weren't in any danger. But this one… This horse was special. Rearing right in front of her, he neighed loudly making the other horses get away from them. She stood up as well, extending her hand toward him until she could reach his mane.

"Good, easy." She whispered.

This stallion was just protecting the others. He stayed there to make sure she wouldn't approach them. So it was her turn to take advantage of his behaviour. When he let his feet touch the ground again, she grabbed a strand of his mane. From now, she had to be quick. Propelling herself from the ground, she had to find her balance as fast as possible, feeling the horse kick and shake his head underneath her. Squeezing her legs against the flanks, she held onto his mane as hard as she could as her heart felt like it was pumping in her temples. Her whole body was shaking from the emotion and her injured leg was not helping. It made an imbalance that she could not correct. She tried to stay steady but her wound just kept her from squeezing the horse's flank as much as she would have wanted to. She'd have to find another way. Instead of keeping her body tensed, she let all her weight on her horse, making them as one, moving her hips to direct him where she wanted him to go. Eventually, he stopped rearing and kicking, and just trotted proudly, probably to show her he wasn't done.

But it was enough for Harriet as she led him towards Arthur, who probably watched the whole thing from his peaceful horse's back. She bounced her body back to stop her stallion as he tried to sniff the grey mare.

"What do you think?" she asked, trying to hide the pride in her voice.

"He's a fine animal." Arthur said as he shrugged his shoulders. "But he looks like he'll give you a hard time."

"He already has. But I like him." She said as she pated his neck.

Arthur put his mare in a slow trot, making the stallion follow immediately.

"How about a race?" Harriet offered, a bit too kin to test her horse.

Morgan huffed beside her and shook his head.

"Aren't you tired?" he asked but she could notice his legs squeezing his mare's flanks, ready to go.

"What? Afraid you'd lose?" She teased.

Sighing again Arthur shook his head and adjusted his reins.

"To camp, on three." He announced.

She was ready, grabbing the stallion's mane and finding a comfortable position, she waited for the signal.

"1…2…3!"

And they were at it. Galloping through the Heartlands in a thunder of hooves. Her stallion was taller but Arthur's mare was swifter, she had noted when she rode her.

Riding side by side, Harriet knew she had a chance. But she wouldn't lie to herself either. They both had a chance to win this. She tried to urge her stallion, squeezing her legs a bit more, but it was clear that this horse wasn't done with her. Shaking his head and kicking in the air, he made it hard for her to stay focus. Putting as much weight on her horse as she could again, she managed to stay in place and moved her hips in an exaggerated way to encourage him to go faster.

They weren't far from camp and Arthur was now in front of her as they entered the woods. When she saw the tents and the other horses, she slowed her horse down before bumping into anyone, and let herself fall against his neck in defeat.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted that race!" Arthur said in a smile.

Harriet shook her head and was about to make up some excuse when a scarred face appeared before them. She had met John before, but never really talked to him.

"Having fun?" He asked as he seemed to come back from his watch. "Weren't you supposed to meet Javier and get Sean?"

The way it came out of his mouth, John seemed to talk about a rescue mission.

"Do you need help?" she asked.

Arthur shook his head and unstrapped her bow from his saddle.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you can barely handle a gun."

"But I'm discreet and good with a bow. I'll have time to learn how to shoot a gun later." Harriet urged.

She needed to help. These people saved her life and accepted her among their group without any questions. She couldn't just stay back in camp and have fun with the horses.

When she saw John shrug in the corner of her eyes, a small smile appeared on her lips.

"Fine, you're coming." Arthur finally said in sigh.

* * *

Hello everyone!

I wanted to apologize for the lack of action in this chapter, Harriet needed a horse and I couldn't just make one appear ^^

Also as an equestrian myself, I don't know if everything I wrote will make a lot of sense for people who don't ride horses or who don't have the same methods as me. So if something seems stupid or need explanation, I'll be glad to answer any question or review about it!

I don't know how I can thank you all for following, reviewing and put this story in their favourites! So thank you so much!


	5. Chapter 5

When she met Trelawny, Harriet questioned herself whether he was actually part of the gang or if he was just an informer. Either way, she really wondered how he ever came to meet the likes of Dutch Van Der Linde.

They were now trotting along a cliff, searching for the boat that held this named Sean prisoner. Riding behind Javier, Harriet couldn't ignore the knot that formed in her stomach. It was her first time out with the gang and she had no idea what to expect. Well, in a way she did after the 'encounter' with the lawmen from Valentine with Arthur, but this was different. They were about to rescue someone. From the law.

When they spotted the boat, Harriet caught sight of a man, a bag on his head as a hood. Deducing this was Sean, she prepared herself for a fight. There were a good number of bounty hunters and they seemed heavily armed. They would need a strategy. That was sure.

"I've got an idea, follow me." Trelawny's voice reached her ears, forcing her to pay more attention to her companions.

They did follow him, getting to the stream and quietly getting off of their horses. Harriet cautiously took her bow from a saddle she borrowed

"We should do this quietly if can." Javier said as he took his knife from his sheathe.

 _Quietly._

"Leave it to me gentlemen. I'll go around and create a distraction, then you three sneak across and do the dirty on them." Trelawny offered.

Harriet notched an arrow, ready to shoot as she crouched down. As Trelawny trotted towards two guards, Harriet and the boys quietly entered the water, using the boulders and plants as cover. When Josiah started his little speech, Harriet couldn't help but admire his acting skills and how this comedy seemed to naturally come to him. Maybe he should have been an actor, or even a lawyer, his fancy words could get anyone out of trouble.

"Javier, you take the right one, I take the left. Harriet, if anyone appears, you shoot." Arthur commanded.

She watched the two boys get closer the bounty hunters as she followed close behind, roaming her eyes for any trouble. Arthur and Javier easily took down the men and everything seemed to go as they planned.

"Move!" Harriet whispered at Trelawny when another bounty hunter appeared from behind the cliff.

"What th-"

Getting straight up, Harriet didn't think twice and released the arrow she had notched and let it loose, running as fast as she could towards the intruder. When the arrow hit his skull, she caught him before his fall could echo in the gorge, putting him slowly on the ground. But it seemed it was too late. Bounty hunters were posted on top of the cliff and didn't hesitate to shoot.

"A pleasure as always, gentlemen. Nice meeting you miss Wiley. I think you have it from here." Trelawny swiftly said before leaving the gorge on his appaloosa

"Take cover!" Arthur ordered to both Javier and Harriet.

She did as she was told, well aware that she could not be as efficient with her bow as the men and their guns. Behind her rock, she could hear the bullets ricochet against the hard stone and whistle in her ears. Notching an arrow, she swiftly got up and quickly chose her next victim: She released the arrow and a half second later, the head hit the throat of a man aiming at her, letting him fall on his back before his hands could reach the wound.

"I see Charles up there!" Javier announced as he moved forward.

Harriet and Arthur followed him, climbing the cliff in a self-assured run when they finally found the camp where Sean was certainly held up. It was a matter of seconds before more bounty hunters flooded towards them, not sparing any bullets. The four of them took cover before Javier gave them his strategy.

"Charles, you take the right, I'll take the left."

 _Well_ , Harriet thought, _I guess I take the middle with Arthur?_ They both hid behind a pile of stacked trunks and the woman had to take a deep breath before notching an arrow again.

"There is one at the top of the tower, you take him, I'll take the one behind the wagon." Arthur commanded.

Harriet didn't answer and simply prepared an arrow, nodding at Arthur when she was ready. He nodded back and they both got up from their position, and when she released her arrow, Harriet stood still, making sure it would hit the target. When she saw the shooter fall to his knees before crashing on the ground, she couldn't help the satisfied smile that pulled at the corner of her lips.

A few more shots from the four of them, and all the bounty hunters were down. Wrapping her bow around her back, Harriet got back as much arrows as she could from the bodies before going back to the gang. When they appeared in her field of vision, she could only see Arthur, cutting the rope that held a man by his feet. Finally reaching them, she noticed that Arthur already seemed annoyed by the newly freed man. Getting closer, she could see that the named Sean was really young, but his smile seemed contagious as Harriet couldn't help but smile herself.

"Here, since you insisted on coming, you're taking mister Macguire back to camp." Arthur said to Harriet as soon as he spotted her. "We should split up."

Without another word, she was left in the company of this Sean Macguire.

"Well well, I wasn't expecting such a lovely company!" The red-haired man exclaimed in a thick Irish accent.

Harriet rolled her eyes when she let out a chuckle, before walking towards her stallion, who had followed the other horses on the cliff. She hoisted herself up and extended her arm for Sean to take.

"I'm probably a bit too old for you dear. I'm Harriet by the way." She said as she help him up on her horse.

Sean grabbed the side of her shirt to stay in place before she put her horse on a slow walk.

"Nice to meet you! Well how old are you then?"

Harriet shook her head, leading her stallion on a sandy path to cross the river.

"You're not supposed to ask something like this to lady."

She heard his frank laugh behind her and had to contain herself to not laugh as well.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I see no lady here! You're wearing pants and your hair are tied up in a strange way!" he exclaimed.

"Why would you notice my hair?!" She asked in a small chuckle.

She wasn't really bothered by the 'I see no lady here' from Sean. In his mouth, it didn't sound like an offense, but more like admiration and she decided that she liked her new companion.

"From where I'm standing, I can't see much else than your hair."

Suddenly very aware of the way she tied her jet-black hair, Harriet instinctively brought a hand to a few strands that escaped the leather bands. Well it was strange. She had to find a way for it to stay in place for at least a couple of days, so she did a few braids on the sides before bringing everything in a ponytail.

"I'm thirty-seven." She finally said, staring at the plains that laid before them.

"I don't believe you! That would mean you're older than our Arthur!" he almost shouted, his accent echoing behind Harriet.

"Well, it seems that I am." She said finally before putting her horse at a faster pace.

She spent the rest of the journey listening to Sean, rambling about how he managed to get himself some time before the bounty hunters would bring him to the prison. She didn't mind though. She could tell he had a lot of confidence but not to the point of stupidity, even if he seemed a bit naïve. She did like him. He was everything a group would need, bravery and kindness, in one man. So she listened to him more than she talked, until they finally reached Horseshoe Overlook.

As soon as Sean got down from the stallion, everyone in the camp seemed to have noticed him and some greeted him with sarcasm as others offered him a drink and embraced him. Soon after, everyone was gathered around the campfire with beers and whisky in their hands as Sean was telling his story with the bounty hunters, _again._

The evening was rhythmed by Javier's music and everyone was more or less drunk when Sean finally stooped talking. Harriet had herself drank a few beers and she couldn't quite remember when was the last time that she felt this familiar dizziness. She never drank with her mother, even less with her husband. Maybe it was that time, when she couldn't take the loneliness a few years ago and drank herself to death, to only wake up with a headache and the ability to stay in bed all day.

"Hey Harriet, I just realised, we don't know much about you, why don't you tell us your story?" Mary-Beth suddenly offered.

Harriet slowly looked up, seeing all the expectant faces that greeted her. Carefully putting her bottle of beer on the ground she took a deep breath and tried to find a way to cut short through the story.

"Well, my father was a Lakota whereas my mother was Scottish. After they got married, my father decided to live with my mother, at her ranch but about eight years after they had me, he got killed by villagers from Valentine. Years later, my mother got sick and she tried to find me husband, so I wouldn't be alone when she'd die. So I got married, to a certain Neil Wiley, before he died ten years ago, not long after my mother. Since then I'm alone."

It was short. Too short and too suspicious. But she mentally thanked Sean when he raised his glass of whisky.

"Well you'll never be alone anymore, right?" He said cheerfully and everyone raised their glasses and bottles as well, quickly forgetting about Harriet.

The latter slowly glanced at Arthur, and realised he was already looking at her. He didn't ask any more question when she confessed about her husband, and she was thankful for that. But the secret was out. She could try to hide the truth from the others, but she knew she would owe explanations to Arthur sooner or later.

It was only a few hours later that Harriet and most of the gang decided to go to bed. When she crashed on the bedroll, she closed her eyes, for a minute, enjoying Javier's soft song only disturbed by Sean and Karen's laughs. Life seemed to shine on her again. These people were a family, they loved and protected each other all the while living on the other side of the law. She could fit in here. She knew she could.

When a low thud reached her ears, she opened her eyes again and turned her head to see that Arthur had let himself fall on his cot, throwing his hat on the small table behind her.

"Sean talks too much." He said in a sigh.

"I like him." Harriet said back, staring at the wagon behind Arthur. "I always wanted a little brother. If I had one, I would have wanted him to be like Sean." She said, lost in her reverie.

Maybe this alcohol was stronger than it looked. Her head was light but she had to fight to keep her eyes open.

"Irish?" Arthur asked in a huff.

Harriet let out a chuckle, thinking of how this situation would look: A half Indian, half Scottish woman with an Irish brother… Sounded like the start of a joke.

"You're an idiot…" she finally said, still laughing.

"Yeah, I know."

Even if his tone was tired, Harriet could have sworn she heard his smile in his words.

Yes, she would fit in here. She already felt at home whenever she heard Javier pull at the strings of his guitar, when Pearson gladly offered her a bowl of stew and when Tilly came to her with reassuring words and silly jokes. And laying down on a bedroll, genuinely laughing for the first time in years with Arthur made her feel safe and peaceful.

With these thoughts in mind, she let herself drift off to sleep, not even bothering to sneak under the cover.

* * *

Hey everyone! First of all, I wanted to apologize for posting this chapter so late, things have been a bit crazy for me lately ^^ And I don't know how I could thank everyone who started to follow this story and putting it in their favorites! Also, (a bit of teasing ;) ) I'm working on a story on Javier, since I think there isn't enough of it in this world ;p

Anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter, and of course, any review is welcome!


	6. Chapter 6

_A week later_

Almost dawn, it would be Harriet's turn to take watch. She finally got used to this new rhythm and her new way of living. After selling enough pelts and a few jewels she managed to loot from a stagecoach robbery she took part in with Arthur and Lenny, Harriet had been able to buy herself some new blue jeans and a proper equipment for her horse.

Taking her bow and arrows, she got up from the bedroll and was on her way to the border of the forest when a voice stopped her.

"Miss Wiley."

The woman turned around to see Dutch walking up to her. She instinctively straightened her back and swallowed in apprehension of what he would tell her.

"Did someone show you how to shoot yet?" he asked as he got closer.

Simply shaking her head, she waited for him to order her to go practice or to just go on with her business. But he didn't.

"Arthur. How is it that that nobody took care of her?" He almost shouted to be heard by Arthur, slowly getting up from his cot.

"I've been busy…" he justified in a mumble.

"Yeah, I can see that." Dutch snapped back.

In a way, Harriet enjoyed this little show. Dutch seemed to be a fatherly figure to all these people: Taking care of them but at the same time, forced them to fall in line.

"I'll take care of this. For revolvers. And Arthur will teach you how to shoot a rifle. Now come with me." He said with a softer tone.

Dutch picked up a bag near the food wagon and started to put all the empty bottles he could find inside, before making his way towards the horses. Without saying a word, he fastened the bag to his saddle and got on his white horse. Harriet did the same and followed him as he left the clearing.

In a week, quite the few things had happened: John had taken Charles, Arthur and Sean on a train robbery, quite successful judging by the amount of jewels they brought back and another member joined them. A certain Micah, but Harriet wasn't sure.

"This spot should do it." Dutch announced as they reached the river after passing by a calcinated town.

Harriet got down from her horse, letting him graze on the other side of the road and carefully watched Dutch install a few bottles on a rock.

She didn't know what to do. She was just waiting, nervously playing with the hem of her sleeve like a little girl.

But when Dutch came back to her, he took a revolver from the satchel placed on his horse's back and handed it to her. She took the piece of metal in her hands, estimating the weight of it between her fingers.

"Now. I've heard that you're good with a bow, so it means your aim is good. But, with a gun you need to handle the weight and the kick, so your aim can be precise." He explained as he got closer. "So, hold it up, and aim."

Harriet nodded, her body facing the bottles. Holding the gun up, her arm seemed to shake from the heaviness of the weapon. Placing her finger on the trigger, her heart started to pound in her chest when she aimed for a bottle.

"Hold on." Dutch said as he took a few steps closer. "You're an archer, so I'm assuming you're not in this position when you shoot."

Harriet didn't say a word and turned her body; this time facing the river and turned her head toward her target.

"That's better. Shoot whenever you're ready."

Harriet held her arm up, trying to fight the weight of the gun as she pointed it at the bottles. Closing an eye, pressing the trigger, the sound of the shot echoed in her ears. But the recoil sent vibrations in her arm, spreading throughout her body and forcing her to take a step back as the bullet flew between the bottles.

"It's okay. You're thinking too much. Arthur told me that you managed to kill two men the other day."

Harriet slowly let her arm fall back against her thigh, still holding the gun before shrugging her shoulder. It wasn't the same the week before. It was necessary and the adrenaline prevented her from thinking.

"It's..." She clumsily started. "They had to die. I had to shoot."

"And you'll have to again." Dutch announced as he hooked his thumbs to his belt. "If it helps you, think about that day. Come on, aim." He ordered.

The dark-haired woman held her arm up again, took a deep breath and tried to find a good balance. Those men probably didn't deserve what happened to them. But they didn't get a choice that day.

"They're after you. They're too close for Arthur to deal with them on his own."

She pressed the trigger. The sound of breaking glass sent shivers down her spine before she armed the hammer of the gun again.

"They're closing in."

Another bottle.

"What are you waiting for? They will not spare you!"

Three more shots echoed in the gorge, along with the clatter of glass and the metallic sound of the gun. It took a few moments for Harriet to go back at a normal position as she blinked a few times to properly see the shattered bottles on the ground.

"Well…" she started. "I probably just needed a context." She said as she looked down at her feet.

She felt Dutch come closer and suddenly got even more nervous. He was way taller than her and he was… Well, the boss.

"You did good. Keep that gun, it's not the best, but it will save your life one day." He assured her as he walked past her and got on his horse.

She tightly held onto the gun with both her hands as she made her way towards her stallion.

"Put it in your satchel for now, you'll ask Arthur for a holster, he has quite the collection." The leader added with a smile.

The thought of Arthur hesitating between a heap of holster brought a smile to Harriet's face. She'd seen men collect cigarette's cards, spurs and even suspenders. But never she had seen a man with more holsters than needed.

When she got back to the camp, Dutch just nodded his head with courtesy before disappearing in his tent again as she took her new gun from her satchel and let her horse graze with the others. She quickly noticed Arthur having a conversation with John and decided to wait he was done before asking him for equipment.

"How did it go?" The green-eyed man asked as he got closer, putting on pair of gloves.

"Fine." Harriet automatically answered. "Uh, Dutch told me to ask you for a holster?" She shyly said.

It wasn't in her nature to go to someone she barely knew and ask for something. But Arthur didn't even hesitate and indicated her to follow him. They slowly walked towards his tent and she patiently waited as he opened a chest. In the middle of a pile of clothes, was indeed a lot of holsters and cartridge belt. He took a worn-out leathered gun-belt and handed it to her.

"You might have to adjust it, but it should do." He said in almost a mumble.

"Thank you." She softly said as she took the holsters from his hands. "Can you hold this?" she asked, handing him her gun.

He took it between his fingers, inspecting the double-action revolver as she tied the belt around her waist; it fell on her hips, but she didn't mind. She had to stop herself from taking a step back when Arthur extended his arm towards her. She wasn't used to have people getting too close to her anymore. But she let out the breath she was holding when she realised, he was simply placing the gun in the holster. The weight of it made her wriggle to find a good balance.

"You have a knife?" Arthur asked, and she could have sworn she saw him smile.

Was he laughing at her? It probably wasn't every day that he had to gear up a woman, who didn't have any clue of what she was doing with a gun hanging at her hips.

"No, I don't." she said with a shrug.

She carefully watched him turned around again, taking something from his chest again.

"Here. This one never fitted me." He said as he handed her another belt, much smaller this time. "You have to tie it around your thigh." He explained before taking a knife from the wagon.

She did as she was told, buckling the belt to her right thigh before Arthur placed the knife in its place.

"Here you go." He said in an approving tone. "Now, I've got to go with John. Catch you later." He informed before leaving her in the camp.

Walking around camp, she felt different. She felt that she was now truly apart of the gang, with the gun and knife hanging at her hip, she could feel the confidence running in her veins.

"You planning on staying on your ass all day, carrot top?"

Of course, there had to be a cloud on the horizon.

"Shut the hell up, Micah." Sean defended himself as he got up and walked past Pearson's wagon.

As Harriet thought the blond man was about to add another unpleasant comment, he just laughed to himself before disappearing behind Dutch's tent whereas Sean sat again against a barrel. She always hated bullies. Especially the ones like Micah: Not doing shit except when things needed to get violent and harassing the younger ones.

"Hi." She started as Sean took a knife from its sheath and began to sharpen it.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked with a cocky grin on his face.

"Do you want to go hunting with me?" Harriet offered on a whim.

She never really knew how to comfort someone, and even if Sean was the kind to laugh at any provocation, she could see that he was upset.

"I know it's not as exciting as what the boys can offer but… It's something and it will keep you away from Micah for a while."

The young man practically jumped from his seated position as a wide smile appeared on his lips.

"Sure! Don't be too disappointed but this time, I'll take my own horse!" He joked in his thick accent.

Harriet couldn't help the roll of her eyes as they made their way to the horses. Hunting it is.


End file.
